


Golden Heart

by TellThemNaegi



Series: Spotlight [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Complicated Relationships, Family Issues, Fever, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Happy birthday Makoto Naegi, Middle School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellThemNaegi/pseuds/TellThemNaegi
Summary: If there was any proof that Makoto had lost his mind in the heat of the moment, it was volunteering to restrain Sayaka after her true colors were exposed. But it wasn't all bad. Maybe he liked her attitude, the impulsiveness hidden beneath the public facade or maybe he enjoyed the rush that came with getting dragged into Sayaka's pace.Or could it be that he just liked that troubled idol?(Part two)





	Golden Heart

_Makoto winced in pain as his right foot touched the ground, making a successful climb and descent from the onyx gate that barricaded the front of Sixth Blackroot Middle School._

_He was late on the first day of class._

_If you're thinking it's no big deal and that it could happen to anybody? Let's retrace back to earlier this morning. Makoto had left the house before dawn, fully aware of the long distance. On his way to the bus stop, he came across an old lady walking her grandson to the daycare. The grandmother had injured her hip and Makoto volunteered to help out, not thinking far enough to know that he'd be carrying her to the daycare and back to her home. The morning bell must have rung long before he finished the task._

_If that wasn't enough action for one day, he'd stumbled onto a cat stuck in a tree. Now that, he'd thought he could ignore, had it not been for the animal's cries. They were like the screams heard at a haunted house. Makoto dropped his bag and opted to climb the tree to rescue the feline. It went well...until the branches snapped, sending him falling to the ground. Thankfully, the cat was unharmed, protected by his grip._

_He allowed the animal to scurry off while he searched his body for signs of injury. He found two. A physical injury in the form of a sprained ankle. A mental one when he noted the crack on his new cellphone._

_He limped his way to school with a sullen expression. But his misfortune wasn't over yet. While crossing the road, Makoto's ankle gave out just before a speeding car turned from around the corner, nearly grazing the brunette._

_Makoto yelped and fell backwards, landing on his backside as his arms gripped his knee._

_The driver stepped out of the car, features wrought with fear and concern. Their worries intensified when their eyes landed on his leg._

_Makoto explained he'd gotten the injury beforehand, to their relief. In exchange, they offered to drive him to school. Makoto wouldn't normally accept that offer from strangers, but he was left with little choice given the circumstances._

_A little after he'd been dropped off, Makoto noticed his watch was broken._

_Still think this morning could happen to anybody? Yeah, didn't think so._

_Makoto snuck away from the gates, completely lost as to where to go. His homeroom was Class 2, but he didn't know the location, and asking the office was a surefire way to get himself caught. His only option was to ask wandering students. His aimless journey led him to the school courtyard, where he spotted a boy obfuscated in the corner._

_He had blonde-hair with red streaks mixed in - A combination Makoto had never seen before._

_The boy puffed a cloud of smoke, a small white stick dangling between his fingers._

_Makoto made a light gasp. Forget the hair, he'd never seen someone his age smoking before. "I was gonna ask for directions, but maybe that's the kind of person I should avoid..." Makoto concluded a step too slow. The other boy's cerulean eyes caught his staring, a tiny smirk appeared on his features._

_Makoto tore his head away, walking in the other direction. As he turned the corner, he bumped into a tall man. His tracksuit allowed Makoto to guess his occupation._

_'Oh boy.'_

_"What're you doing out of class?" The man's eyes narrowed._

_"I-I was late and didn't know where to go." Never much of a liar, Makoto opened up with the truth._

_Big mistake._

_"It's past 11. The gates should have closed at 9. Unless you've been lost for hours, how'd you get in?"_

_"I-I....um..." Makoto withering under the teacher's glare, unable to form words that wouldn't get him in deeper trouble._

_"Can't you see you're scaring him, Chief?" A smooth voice came from behind Makoto. He craned his head back to see the blonde walking over._

_"You, aren't you-...hm?"The older man paused, scrunching his face. Makoto could probably guess why. Normally, you'd expect teenagers to hide their misconduct from the adults' prying eyes. But here, this boy approached them with the bud from earlier still in hand._

_"You oughta ask nicely if you're fishing for answers. That's why women make much better detectives than men." He uttered. Makoto gaped, thinking the boy hadn't realized with the way he rambled on. That possibility was dispelled when he inhaled the cigarette right in front of them. "Actually, girls might be better than men in just about everything, including teaching."_

_The teacher's amazement gave way much earlier than Makoto's did. His expression transforming into anger._

_"Not to mention they're a lot easier on the eyes. Makes it so much easier to pay attention compared to hearing gorillas talk all morning. I couldn't take another second of it." The boy sighed. Makoto had been right on the money with his first assessment._

_'I really don't want to get involved with this guy.'_

_The teacher turned red in the face as he bellowed "KAWASHIMA!"_

* * *

 

Earning Maizono’s trust was as much a burden as it was a privilege. To be someone she could trust without fear of ulterior motives was a lot of responsibility, but he wouldn't run from the pressure. That’s why the day after his declaration, Makoto made good on his promise. To start, he asked the celebrity to have lunch with him. Even amidst the shocked crowd, he stood his ground.

“I’d love to.” Maizono replied. Her chosen spot for lunch was a public place. Makoto wasn’t an idiot. The bluenette couldn’t have rumors floating about, interacting in the public eye as friends would be the easiest way to dissuade any potential scandals.

Maizono never broached the subject. She never asked him how he felt about the attention. It didn’t need to be said what her reasons were.

Nevertheless, it was difficult ignoring the obvious stares at their table, it made him feel sick really…but compared to what he felt that time when Maizono cried…this was nothing.

“I’m begging ya, join the cheer squad!”

“Again with this? I told you I can’t.” Maizono dismissed their pleas. One day, a quiet lunch between the idol and himself was interrupted by a group of friends, flanking the celebrity and begging her to be part of the cheer team for the upcoming sports festival.

“Everyone wants you too~”  “It’ll be great for morale. We’ll do anything.” Makoto watched as arguments filed in spades. He couldn’t do much else, having zero place in the woes of the popular crowd.

Maizono glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. A gesture that Miura caught. “Hey, Hey Naegi! Don’t you think Sayaka-chan’s wasting her youth? Convince her.” And somehow all eyes and hopes were on him. He tried to get a read on what Maizono wanted, but to no success. Makoto meekly voiced his opinion. “If…you’re not too busy, it sounds like a decent way to take your mind off work and make good memories.”

Maizono looked him in the eye, then turned to the others. “Fine, but I have some conditions.” The first word alone was enough to get everyone in high spirits. Good for the- “I’ll only help if Naegi’s the squad leader.”

…

**_“““Say what?!”””_ **

* * *

 

“Have fun, you two.”

 “Thanks for dragging him out here!”

Mom and Maizono waved to each other before the former drove off.

“She didn’t force me, I was still gonna come.” Makoto scowled at his mother’s treachery, placed his hands in his track shorts and trekked towards the sparkling Maizono.

“Noted.” She snickered. He took note of her hair, styled into a cute pony-tail for the upcoming practice session. Whatever that would be, she’d told him to bring running clothes.

“ Shouldn’t we be practicing um…I don’t have a clue what we’re supposed to be doing, actually.” Makoto said.

“It’s…like cheerleading…probably.” Now why wasn’t he convinced?

 “…Why’d you think to make _me_ the squad leader?”

“Hmm…I thought it’d be fun to drag you along… _for the memories._ ” She giggled.

 _‘She’s twisted...’_ Makoto sweat dropped.

Maizono kicked up her legs, jogging in place. “Let’s meet up with the other squad members then run along with the track team!”

“…Someone’s gung-ho.” Makoto remarked as she ran off.

The sports festival was a conglomerate of athletic events that anyone could join - the player mainly grouped by classes.  Ah…there were also activities he _had_ to participate in, like the cavalry battle at the end of the festival…no pressure or anything.

Maizono’s suggested practising with either of the three teams to get into the spirit of things. Makoto’s first choice was track, as…between the others and plain running? It wasn’t rocket science to see which option led to the path of least resistance for an uncoordinated guy like him.

But as expected, he couldn’t keep up with the team’s stamina at all. After 6 minutes of jogging, he gave out. His breath was heavy, his chest beating wildly as he bent over with his hands on his knees.

An ice-cold bottle of water offset the heat. He lifted his head to see one of the runners towering over him. Making a quick comparison, Makoto could tell from the other boy’s light breathing that he was much better off despite having ran a greater distance. The stark contrast in build size wasn’t for show either.

“Naegi, right? Drink up.”

Makoto took the container without the usual trace of shyness. His thirst beat out reservations. “Thanks…you know me?”

“Yeah, you lost your wallet last month right?” He replied with a raised finger.

“…You’re Kan-chan?” He connected the dots while thinking the name didn’t fit the athlete’s lean physique. He towered over Makoto in stature.

“What the hell-” The runner’s bewilderment morphed into one of begrudged understanding. “Oh, you heard that from Takashi. The name’s Kan _ame_ Aizawa, the track team’s ace. Nice to meet you.” He grinned.

“Likewise.” Makoto said. The other boy looked stern, but maybe he was a nice guy after all.

“Why are you butting in on _my job_ , Kaname?”

Aizawa twitched at the call. Both boys watched a girl with black, side-swept hair style jogging towards them, dragging a sizable cooler behind her. Makoto recognized her as one of Maizono’s friends. Even in gym clothes, she was dressed fashionably, her sweater wrapped and hanging around her waist. Aiko Miura. Though Makoto had never spoken to her directly, he knew her as one of the most popular girls in school.

He also thought she was scary as hell.

“You were texting, Aiko. Doesn’t this mean I’m doing _your job_ better than you?”

She glared at Aizawa, then turned to Makoto, the echoes of her displeasure made him flinch. “My bad. It’s my first day and I had this super important message.”

“It’s fine, everything’s fine! You don’t have to worry about me!” Makoto yelped, feeling increasingly nervous with all the abrupt attention. He barely knew them, but he was starting to think the reverse wasn’t true.

“What’re you being shy for?” She placed a hand on her hips. “Is it the smell? Sadly I’m used to that, I have to hang around with sweaty jocks like this all day.” She jerked a finger at the runner.

Makoto couldn’t resist the urge to sniff his sweat-drenched shirt.

The others snorted and laughed.

“What’s with that reaction? Too funny.” Miura giggled, calming down when she glimpsed Makoto’s dejected expression. “Sorry. I just thought…if you’re like _that_ , I can see why Sayaka could be friends with you.”

“Yeah about that. Thanks for getting Maizono out here. I owe you one.” Aizawa said.

“I just did what I could.” Makoto answered in all his modesty.

“If you say so. _We’ve_ been trying for months to get her to say yes.” Miura added.

 They…seem friendly, surprisingly. With friends like these, why did Maizono feel isolated? “Why did you want to Maizono to volunteer so badly?” Makoto asked, feeling a tad guilty at his decision to ‘investigate’ the relationships between them and the idol.

“‘Badly’ is a stretch. But don’t you think it’s a waste to skip out on the festival?” Miura played with her nails, returning with a question of her own. Makoto didn’t have an opinion either way, but Miura’s intentions were apparently harmless. “Sayaka would spend her time on some boring practice session anyway.” The girl continued.

 “Implying a breezy girl like _you_ would know how important practice is. Take a look.” Aizawa scoffed, jerking his finger to the other side of the track. Maizono was still jogging, showing even better endurance than some of the guys.

“She isn’t even cheering, but the guys are going 110%. Even some of our lightweights are still running today. That kind of dedication is infectious. Which is why I don’t get how you can be so laidback despite hanging around her-”

Makoto caught flashes of disappointment and hurt on Miura’s features with every word spoken.

“Wow, _lucky me_ to be getting a first-row seat to a lover’s quarrel. I’m downright jealous.” Said a voice so whimsical that it irritated the two.

Makoto shifted, acknowledging Takashi’s sudden presence. “Yo.” The blonde greeted him. Makoto waved.

“Don’t mind me. It’s always funny to see Kan-chan direct, serious and oh-so- _tactless_. You’ve got it rough, Aiko, to be gunning for this guy. But don’t give up, a hottie like you’ll break through that thick, shaved head of his one day and I’ll be rooting for ya~” He addressed Miura with a cheesy thumbs up.

 “I _so_ don’t need that kind of back up!” Miura grabbed one of the cold bottles from the cooler and threw it at Takashi’s forehead.

*smack*

The bottle hit the mark, but instead of falling on the floor, Takashi bounced the container against his leg to catch with his hands. He twisted the cap off and drank from it. “That hit the spot. Thanks.”

…The whole sequence was kinda annoying.

 “Yo, Makoto. I take it the rumors are true.”

“Oh…yeah, I’m on the cheer squad.” Makoto offered a timid smile.

“Nice. I’ll be sure to get plenty of photos for my album.” Takashi gave a thumbs up, catching Miura’s curiosity.

“What album?”

“Wanna see, Ai-chan~?” He’d already pulled his phone out of his sweatpants.

 “Stop!” Makoto formed a human wall between the grinning two, arms spread-wide. “You. Delete those already!” He fumed.

“Ah, that dumb blog. Yeah, I got a good laugh out of it, no foul.” Aizawa chuckled dryly, folding his arms when he caught Makoto’s horror. “Don’t give me that look. Use this as motivation to pick better friends in the future.”

Takashi took offense. “ _Excuse you_ , I’ve been nothing _but_ a positive influence.”

 “Speaking of friends. Sayaka and Naegi and have been pretty friendly lately. When’d that start?” Miura brought up the dreaded question.

“Yeah, I’ve been _dying_ to know too.” Takashi radiated jealousy.

Makoto let out a tiny, defiant smirk. “She noticed me off his blog.” He pointed to the blonde, technically not _lying_.

 “Nothing is sacred in this world.” Takashi grimaced.

“What are you playing around here for?” spat the captain, who’d circled around the track and stopped in front of the group. The others trailing behind. “…wait, Kawashima, why are _you_ over here?”

 “Yo, captain.” The slacker greeted with a raise hand.

“I’m not _your_ captain…and the soccer club’s over _there_.”

“Eh? Really?”

‘Yes.”

“But we all go to the same school, bring the trophies home to the same place. Why do we _need_ to divide ourselves boundaries like teams when we’re all practically family?” Takashi said, arms spread wise.

Everyone gawked.

“Leave.” The captain narrowed his eyes, threateningly.

“G-Gotcha.” Takashi saluted and ran off.

With a shake of the head, Aizawa returned to his sprints. Makoto quickly followed.

* * *

 

“Stay still.” Miura commanded.

Makoto spread his arms as she circled around him with measuring tape. The two occupied a spot on the benches, in front of the soccer field. The brunet was getting outfitted for the squad leader costume. Whatever that looked like, he hadn’t the faintest clue, and Miura wasn’t telling him either.

“You know how the groom can’t see the bride’s dress until she walks down the aisle? Think of it like that.”

 “Am I the bride…or the groom?” Did he want to know the answer? Probably not.

Miura rolled her eyes. “The idea is that it’s bad luck.”

A good way to get him to comply. He didn’t need any more bad luck. “…Does Maizono-san know?”

“ ‘Course she does. Sayaka’s the one who told me to keep it a secret from _you_.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Makoto zoned in on the bluenette, cheering loudly for the team. Seeing her so expressive, Makoto inquired. “Is it me or is she really into this?”

“I can’t tell. Sayaka keeps to herself a lot…isn’t she like that with you?”

He wasn’t really sure how to answer that. “…I don’t really get her sometimes.” An unhelpfully vague expression, one he concretized by closely observing Maizono; having changed into a cheer leading outfit, reminding Naegi that she was a fantastic dancer. The movement of her arms, the sway of her legs and hips, were sharp but exaggerated enough to leave an appropriate impact. A faint blush and smile crept onto his face, mirroring the energy Maizono exuded. “But…watching her…I have a chance to see something new.”

Miura eyed him. “Hmmm. So it’s like that, huh. Good luck.”

“Is it different with you?” Makoto asked while Miura circled the tape around his waist.

“I thought it’d be cool to brag about being friends with a celebrity, still do. Now, I don’t think our friendship has advanced. Sayaka doesn’t tell me much about herself, and I won’t ask. I’m sure that girl barely has any privacy as it is.”  Miura said nonchalantly.

Makoto admired her maturity. Again, the thought popped into his mind. Why did Maizono settle for him in the end when Miura was so much more reliable?

“Though, I call us ‘friends’, all I’ve got is a first-row seat to her performances, never getting to stand on stage with her like those other idols or see what’s going on in the back. Then I start wondering… ‘what does she really think of me?’” 

“And?”

“I decide I don’t want the answer.”

Miura didn’t continue, signalling the end of the conversation. Makoto returned his attention to the field, searching just in time to see Takashi perform an overhead kick in mid-air, slamming the ball past the goalie and into the net.

“…Woah!” Makoto said in awe. “He can _do_ that?”

“Quit moving!” Miura snapped.

“Yes ma’am!” Makoto straightened

She clicked her tongue. “Who’s he showing off to?”

“I’ve never seen a bicycle kick before.”

“I’ve seen him do it a few times, never looked safe. Any one else on the team probably _would_ get hurt.”

Makoto blinked at the implication. “He’s the ace?”

“No. He shirks and skips practice. Waste of genetics and talent, if you ask me.” Her disinterested tone was at odds with his fascination.

Makoto scrunched his face, disbelief written over it. “Are we talking about that Takashi-kun?”

Seeing that he needs clarification, Miura continued. “His dad’s a pro-soccer player, a foreigner, hence the hair.”

_‘I thought it was dyed…’_

“Kawashima’s his mother’s surname, his parents are divorced-…” She trailed off. “Ugh, this is none of my business. Why not ask him yourself?”

“…You’re really nice, Miura-san.”

“Of course I am.” She said with a glare that didn’t match her sentiment.

_‘I’m starting to figure her out.’_

“Now I feel a little conscious for not knowing any of that. He’s never brought it up.” Some best friend…

“Takashi, Kaname and I were classmates all throughout grade school, word got around. Not that you’d tell from looking at him.” Miura said, having finished her measurements, putting the tape away.

 Makoto laughed. “It’s kind of hard to take him seriously too. He’s so…”

“Weird? Yeah. I keep telling him if he acted a bit more normally, he’d be way more popular.”

“I can see why you’d think that.” Makoto mused over the criticism, acknowledging her points were fair “..But I also think Takashi-kun fine as he is. Not everyone can or has to follow the crowd. It’s more important if they find what makes them happy.” Makoto said.

Miura cast him a discerning gaze. “You’ve got low standards. If he were my friend, I wouldn’t let him waste his gift. If you’ve got the goods, flaunt it.”

“You should give him a chance. He’s…a little annoying, but his heart’s in the right place…most of the time.”

“Not sure how to feel hearing that from a guy who just admitted to knowing jack about Takashi.” Miura shrugged.

“You’ve got that wrong.” Makoto said. “I may not know what his family life is like, but I know him, we’ve been friends for two years. Even if he’s not honest about it, Takashi is a mood reader and he’s always looking out of others.” Just like he stood up for Miura in front of Aizawa.

Miura huffed. “Well…it’s not like I didn’t already know that. He just bugs me. Compared to Kaname, he doesn’t put in the effort.”

* * *

 

Makoto’s conversation with Miura at the back of his mind, Makoto searched for Takashi after practise. The other boy stepped out of the school building, now wearing casual clothes after leaving the change room.

Makoto questioned why he wasn’t with the other players on the soccer team.

“Practice tires me out. I’d rather sleep like a log.” – was Takashi’s response to evading his teammates. It’d sound like a flippant joke coming from anyone else, but he probably meant that. The brunet was carefully thinking of how to approach this sensitive topic.

 “You saw that…ahaha. I was feeling a bit restless.” Takashi rubbed the back of his neck, shyly.

“When’d you get so good?”

“You might have known if you came to our games. The ones I felt like playing anyway.”

“Sports aren’t my scene.”

“You don’t say. Maybe if you activated those muscles every once in a while, you’d be able to kick just like me.” He teased.

“I kinda doubt that.” Makoto said, dejectedly. “But man, what was all that about calling yourself normal when you’ve got all that talent?”

“Could be that Soccer just isn’t for me.”

Then why did he play? “Is it because of your dad?”

Takashi stared at Makoto, strangely. “Where’d you hear about that?”

“Miura-san.”

“Is she getting back at me for teasing her…” The boy whined. “Explains why you’re so suspicious.”

Was he really that easy to read?

“There’s not very much to tell. My dad’s work gives him a lot freedom but…the part of the divorce was just a rumor. My parents were never married, I was born out of wedlock. My mom takes care of me.”

That was a story in of itself.

“Ah, don’t feel bad for asking. I don’t hate my dad, he contacts me every week, never misses my birthday either. I’m way better off than some kids in my position.” Takashi brushed off his concern. “If there’s a problem at all, it’s soccer.”

“Why? You’re a great player.”

He raked his blonde tresses, averting his eyes. “That’s the problem. I like the sport but…it’s like I’m the same as my old man.”

 “…No chance of that.” Makoto waved his hand flippantly.

“Huh?”

“Ahaha, you’re a one-of-a-kind, Takashi-kun. I can’t imagine someone similar to you…Somethings shouldn’t be allowed.” Makoto deadpanned.

He laughed. “ _I definitely deserved that_.”

“I am a little serious. You can only be yourself, and I think you’re fine just the way you are.”

“And what if I told you that this isn’t the real me?”

Makoto cocked his head. “I say, bring it on. I’m used to it.”

“Come again?”

Makoto froze. “…Forget I said that. But take it from me and uh…Miura-san.” Takashi raised his eyebrow at the latter mention. “Don’t squander your gifts. if you like soccer and have the talent for it, don't hold yourself back because of your dad. I don’t think he’d want you to either.”

“Other way around. Dad always practices with me whenever he shows up. But I get your point.” Takashi gave a half-shrug. Makoto deliberated over whether he really did get through or the boy wasn’t taking him seriously, as usual. “You’re pretty good at this cheering thing. Be careful they don’t get you in a cheerleading outfit like what Maizono was wearing…damn, that was awesome.”  Takashi grinned lecherously, ignorant of Makoto’s change in disposition.

“…”

They wouldn’t do that…

Would they?

* * *

 

Thankfully they didn’t, as Makoto found out on the day of the festival. He walked out of the change room, not the slightest bit happy.

“What’s with these measurements?” He shouted. The outfit was 3 sizes too large. Even the sleeves of his black jacket went past his arms.

“It’s perfect.” Miura sat, legs crossed and unphased by his tantrum.

“Maizono-san!” He turned to the pop sensation for help, the girl equipped with the same attire as him; all black coat with yellow buttons, black pants and a red bandanna to contrast Makoto’s green. Another stark difference was that Maizono’s outfit actually, well, fit! The sleeves were rolled up, stopping at her forearm. It gave her a boyish/manly appeal that worked well despite her overbearing femininity. What was it called…gap moe?

Compared to her… “I look like a kid!”

Maizono giggled. “It’s cute.”

“Unhelpful. So Unhelpful.” Makoto groaned. He should have known it would turn out like this.

“Stop whining and think. The most important part about being the leader is standing out. I would have aimed for shirtless, but you’re seriously lacking definition in the chest area.”

“Well sorryyy for being skinny.” Makoto argued back, as red as his friend’s bandana.

The girl in question guffawed in the background, while Miura rubbed her temples. “I’m not making fun of you so go along with it. Cute and harmless, is your appeal.”

“I disagree.”

Miura’s eyes darkened. “ _Naegi-kun._ I hope I'm wrong, but it sounds like you have a problem with my vision.”

“It’s fine, just peachy.” Makoto squeaked, faking a smile. She’s scary, after all.

Satisfied with Makoto’s obedience, Miura turned to Maizono. “Is it _that_ funny?”

The bluenette wiped a tear from her eye and coughed to regain her composure.  “Yes. Yes it is. Ignoring that, Naegi. Aiko’s got great taste in designs, she wants to be a fashion designer like her mom when she grows up!”

“D-Don’t blurt that out!” Miura flushed furiously, looking much like Makoto had earlier.

“But I gotta know, why green?” Maizono crinkled her nose, put off by his headband.

“Tackiest color on Earth, but it fits him.” The other girl answered. “Anyway, my job is…mostly done. Go break a leg out there, you two.”

…

The first major event of the day was the relay race, Makoto stood atop a small podium for leverage, the explicit reason being that he’d have a more commanding presence that way. Not because he was the shortest guy in the group.

Definitely not.

The group consisted of himself, Maizono and 9 others, including those who’d practiced with the instruments. The race began, and so did the roaring cheers. Makoto’s heart beat faster and harder than the drums, a rush of adrenaline surging through his body.

Not just them, even the crowds of people/families who were permitted on the school grounds buzzed alongside them, rooting for their own favored runners.

A side-glance towards Maizono, a big bright smile on her face as she posed and yelled at the top of her powerful lungs. This level of exertion wasn’t an issue for the singer, but for Makoto…his muscles constricted, his mind went into auto-pilot, his inhibitions had been left at the door as he took steps into foreign ground.

When the baton was passed to Aizawa, Makoto’s upped the intensity (as impossible as it sounded for anyone who knew him), even addressing the ace by his first name. The others matched his enthusiasm, rallying behind Kaname even after he crossed the finish line and won the race.

* * *

 

The tug of war left Makoto physically and vocally drained. He ventured to the nearest water fountain. Coughing loudly after ingesting copious amounts of fluid.

His throat was going to be sore tomorrow…

“Excuse me.” A call disrupted Makoto’s ruminations, the owner a taller woman holding a pamphlet “I’m lost, could you give me directions to the football pitch?”

She must have been a relative of one of the students…a late one. The festival was nearly over. “I could-“ Makoto paused to clear his throat. “I could lead you there, if you don’t mind. I’m headed over myself.” He proposed. Black Root was a larger than average middle school and it wasn’t the first time he’d helped a lost visitor.

“Thank you, I was tired of walking around aimlessly.” She smiled, gently, her face free of wrinkles of any kind. Makoto had some doubt of her being a parent, as she looked no older than 30 to him.

“That’s quite the getup.”

“It wasn’t my idea but it’s intentional. Brings out my _‘appeal’_ …apparently.” Makoto droned, mimicking Miura’s tone. Yeah he was still mad.

The older woman laughed lightly, seemingly agreeing with the sentiment

Oh right, forgot. “I’m Makoto Naegi, nice to meet you.”

She nodded and introduced herself. “Michio Kawashima.”

Makoto’s feet stopped, staring up at the woman as he posed the obvious question. “Are you…Takashi-kun’s mom?” Kawashima-san returned his gaze with renewed acknowledgement and a curt ‘yes’.

 Makoto heeded the unspoken prompt and clarified his relationship with the blonde. “I’m his friend.” He scratched his cheek.

“It’s a lucky coincidence I happened to meet you.” Kawashima said, with transparent interest.

Makoto silently ruminated over how he and ‘luck’ never went in the same sentence without ‘bad’ in the mix.

“How is Takashi?”

“Last I saw, he was happy as ever this morning.” A glance at her expression told him that wasn’t quite what she was asking.

“And…he’s usually like that at school?” Her words were carefully selected.

Makoto nodded. “Always excited, eccentric…a little selfish…tells bad jokes…” Makoto’s eyebrow twitched as his smile became a tad forced. “But he’s a good guy…even if he tries to not show off his good qualities.”

“That _does_ sound like him.” Her smile turned bitter. “Naegi-kun. Although I doubt this is necessary, If Takashi asks, please pretend you didn’t meet me here.”

Makoto’s brow creased at the strange request but consented to her terms all the same.

* * *

 

The game begun with class 1 leading two-to-nothing over class 2. It put Makoto in a weird place, emotionally, having to cheer against his own class, but Maizono and the others had conscripted him to class 1 and that was the end of it.

At least they were winning. The groups comprised a mix of the senior soccer players and unrelated students. Makoto was no sportscaster but even he could see that select players were way better than others. Most belonging to class 1.

A flash of light blinded him. He turned towards the source; the sight of his mother giddy and waving at him, encapsulating the image of him wearing this dorky outfit forever.

_*Sigh*_

The prompt had Makoto scouting for his friend’s own parent, spotting Kawashima-san where he directed her, an unreadable expression on her face. For one reason or another, she didn’t want her son to know she was here…

…

The next shot made the score 3-0. The scorer was good, but Makoto knew Takashi was better than that, carefully observing the blonde’s practices, even when he thought nobody else was looking. Coupled with his lack of enthusiasm and the absence of disappointment at the fail, it looked like Takashi didn’t even care.

Makoto sympathized with Miura’s viewpoint. Compared to Aizawa-kun, this was so uncool.

Frustration bubbled for several minutes and peaked when the ball was passed to Takashi again. Makoto inhaled and shouted at the top of his lungs “SCORE, TAKASHI!” Two words had disrupted the rhythm of the cheer squad. Confusion spreading among the other members and players as Makoto cheered for someone on the other team. Many of the players, including Takashi himself lost focus, having the ball taken away as he stared at Makoto with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights-look.

“GET THE BALL BACK, KAWASHIMA!” It was Makoto’s turn to be shocked by an unexpected assistance from Maizono.

“Let em have it!” Makoto screamed, and the others, like domino tiles falling, followed suit until their unison was restored.

Takashi scratched his head, a moment later, he moved. His legs carrying him fast enough to  catch up to the kicker, initiating a slide tackle once he got within distance. The ball was launched forward and picked up by his teammate, who broke through. the defense and scored against the goalkeeper.

The crowd roared and scoreboard got a little tighter.

5 minutes later,  past half-time, Takashi gained possession of the ball, running down the middle of the field. He circled past the defender, handling the ball with dexterity and balance. With class 1 acknowledging him as the most dangerous player, Takashi kicked the ball to the side just as he reached the last line of defense. The diversionary tactic succeeded, creating an opening for the kicker to score.

The next goal was a copy of the second, Takashi’s motions were fluid, outmaneuvering whomever stood in the way. If the pressure was too much, he’d pass. If class 1 spread their defenses, he’d take advantage of the thinning and aim for the goal.

The tides shifted and the game saw a drastic turn. Ending with Class 2’s victory 5-3.

The members of his class swarmed and tackled Takashi to the ground, celebrating their victory. The crowd clapped and chanted the boy’s name.

Makoto had a gigantic smile on his face. He motioned to the bleachers, checking for Takashi’s mom. Her expression was still stone-faced, out of place amidst the excited crowd. Not a second later, she left her seat.

“Huh?” Makoto cocked his head. Is she leaving…just like that?

Before he could think any further, a finger tapped his shoulder. Makoto faced the absolutely demonic glares of Class 1’s team, who put up a hell of a fight, might he add!

“I…can explain.” He squeaked.

The captain stuck out his thumb and crossed his neck.

“You. Us. Cavalry battle. Payback.”

...

After a resounding defeat in the final game of the event, Makoto sat on his knees, head lowered before Queen Miura and the cheer squad.

“Top 10 betrayal, Naegi.” Miura noted. 

“He was cheering on a friend. It was so sweet!” Maizono cooed.

“More like dumb…and why enable him?” Miura tossed the bluenette an exasperated look.

“It was interesting though, wasn’t it? A spicy finale.” Maizono said cutely, in a fashion that nobody could reprimand. Even though she was guilty of the same offense.

Life is so not fair.

“Give him a break. You were rooting for Takashi along with them, Aiko.” Makoto’s head shot up in gratitude when Aizawa backed him.

“Only because I’d be the odd one out when everyone else was.” The raven-haired girl folded her arms.

“But Kawashima-kun was super good too. It made it easy to cheer him on.” Maizono nodded.

“I’ll celebrate if it doesn’t turn out to be a one-time thing.” Miura clicked her tongue.

“I wouldn’t put it that way, but I think the same. It’d be a good turnabout if he got serious and played like that in actual games.” Aizawa said.

“He will.” Makoto spoke up, resolutely.

“Then that settles it.” Maizono said. “Now, why don’t we go out to celebrate? It’ll be my treat!” A chorus of enthusiastic applause for Maizono’s generosity rang.

Makoto stood up, taking that as his cue to leave.

“Huh? Where are you going?” Aizawa called.

“You’re coming with us, Naegi-kun.” Maizono added, already seeing through him.

“I-I can?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Who celebrates without the leader?” Miura furrowed her brows.

Leader? Who? “In name sure, but Maizono-san planned everything, I only went along with for the ride.” He confessed and was met with surprise.

“Word for word.” Aizawa breathed out.

“Freaky. How’d you _do_ that?” Miura spoke to the idol, whose eyes twinkled with the mischief he was growingly familiar with.

Maizono giggled. “Naegi-kun’s so modest and shy. He’d never take credit for planning our routine.”

“Huh, I-I didn’t-” Makoto stammered at the blatant lie.

“Volunteering to run with us to get into the groove. Not a bad idea.” Aizawa complimented.

“Give it a rest, Naegi. ‘I went along for the ride’ isn’t something you can say after you rooted for the other team in front of the whole school.” Miura scoffed.

Why…why did he feel like he’d been rused?

Makoto leered at Maizono with a gaping mouth. The pop star returned with a look that said _‘Who are they going to believe? You or me?’_

He gave up. “Okay, I’ll be there…but on one condition. Can Takashi come too?”

“Sure he can.” Maizono said

“I was inviting him anyway. I think he was by the fountain.” Aizawa rubbed his chin.

“Got it. I’ll go get him.”

Following Aizawa’s directions, Makoto stumbled onto the soccer player, who lifted his head from the fountain, catching Makoto in his sights.

With an irritated frown, he trekked over, stomping his feet in an intentionally comical manner. “You. Were you _trying_ to humiliate me?” He poked Makoto’s chest repeatedly. It was the first time Makoto’d seen him rattled like this.

The spiky-hair backed away, chuckling. “You were great out there.”

“Like I had a choice after being put on the spot!” Takashi’s lips twitched upward,

“That’s what you get for not taking me seriously days ago.”

Takashi smacked his forehead, shoulders shaking as he laughed. “Unbelievable.”

“By the way, Aizawa-kun wanted to invite you to Maizono’s after-party. I’m going too.”

The blonde perked up. “Huh? Kaname did? What about Aiko?”

“I don’t think she cared.”

Takashi slumped. “Girls are tough…I wonder what she’s got against me.” The soccer player quickly bounced back, placing a hand on Makoto’s shoulder. “Oh well, at least I got Maizono to cheer my name out loud! Ah, Makoto. Our friendship was worth it if only for that one moment.”

Makoto grimaced. “Even if you’re joking, saying careless stuff like that is a _fine_ way to get people to hate you.”

“I know. That’s why I do it.” Takashi’s declaration earned a confused look from the shorter boy. “Well, more like why I _used_ to, initially. It might have become a habit now. At least I know you won’t leave me hanging.” He slapped Makoto on the back.

“Let’s go celebrate my amazing win.”

* * *

 

“This should be the place.” Makoto stood in front of Sayaka’s sizeable home. Normally, he’d never step foot in an upper-class district uninvited, but he’d been tasked with delivering school work for the sick idol.

“I hope she’s okay.” Makoto said, ringing the doorbell. He didn’t even mind how inappropriate it was for this job to be dropped on his shoulders.

The door opened and out came a face Makoto immediately recognized. It wasn’t Sayaka but one of the other members of her band

“Who’re you?” Ayaka Haneyama looked him over.

“I’m Makoto Naegi and I came to drop-off Sayaka’s homework.” He explained.

“’ _Sayaka_ ’?” The word danced like she’d tasted something bitter. “A classmate?” Haneyama’s brow ticked upwards, her suspicion evident. Makoto had a feeling he was witnessing why she was famous for being the ‘tough girl’ of the group.

“I’m a friend…in a different class.”

“Why’s the teacher selecting a kid in another class?”

Fair question and he had an even fairer answer; Because Aiko Miura said she was busy, sought him out and was a _hard_ girl to turn down.

“Ayakaaaa, what’s taking so long? Huh? Who’s this? A fan~” Satomi Aoba peeked out from behind Haneyama. If Makoto hadn’t gotten used to being the in the presence of a celebrity, he’d be freaking out.

“Get this, he’s – and I quote – _Sayaka’s_ friend.”

Aoba hummed at the revelation. “Oh~. Come inside then!”

Makoto waved his hand, dismissively. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt, and I wasn’t invited. I’ll just leave the homework with you, if that’s fine.”

“It isn’t.” Aoba rejected his compromise, hands at her hips. “If you’re Sayaka’s friend, then come see how she's doing.”

…He was a little concerned. Sayaka had been absent for several days. “Okay.”

Like a lost lamb, he wandered into the lion’s den.

...

"Step one foot in here and I'll never forgive you, Makoto! ” The frantic Sayaka yelled at the top of her lungs, hiding behind her closed room door. Followed by a harsh coughing fit.

Makoto shook like a leaf on the other side, mouth gaping. The girls had insisted they guide him to the bluenette’s room on the upper floor where they were staying. She took one glance at the spiky-haired boy from the door’s opening and slammed it in his face.

Haneyama and Aoba giggled and laughed behind him. Thoroughly amused by their peer’s predicament.

“I-I’ll be…going then.” Makoto said, his voice hollow.

“No you won’t.” Aoba pushed him aside and knocked on Sayaka’s door. “Open up, _Diva-_ ka. _Is that how you treat guests?_ ” She hissed.

“Shut up! Shut up! Why would you let him in here when I’m like this?!”

Makoto visibly winced at the outburst. It had been months since he’d seen Sayaka in hysterics. He didn’t want to cause her trouble…

“Because he’s your _friend_ , apparently.” Aoba said, teasingly.

Sayaka altered tactics, addressing him next. “Makoto, _leave_. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“This is kind of interesting. Forget Sayaka, let’s go downstairs.” Ayaka suggested.

Makoto threw her a puzzled look.

“Good idea. Come with us, Naegi-kun. Since _Sayaka-sama_ has lost her manners, we’ll treat you right in her stead.”

““Huh?!”” The chestnut-haired boy and blue-haired idol said.

…

Makoto sat on the sofa in the expansive living room, hands on his knees as the idols occupied both sides of him. This wasn’t how he saw his day going.

“It’s huge, right?” Aoba said, referring to the house

“Not really. Ours are bigger than this.” Haneyama added, scoffing at Sayaka’s meagerness.

“She could have gotten a bigger one if she wanted.” Makoto argued, not sure why he felt the need to defend his friend.

“Sayaka-chan’s a homely country-girl at heart. That’s for sure.” Aoba giggled.

“Eh, really?” News to him.

 “She doesn’t like telling people, but yeah. Totally from the boonies, you should have seen how hard she worked to get rid of her accent.” Haneyama clarified.

Wow…now he was really curious…but “If she doesn’t want people knowing, I don’t think you should have told me. And I should leave anyway, she didn’t want me here.” 

“No you don't." Aoba pressed against his leg, keeping him from standing. "Even if Sayaka does have fever, I can’t tolerate her acting like a brat in front of a fan. You’ll stay right here until she comes down and apologizes. As her _friend_ , you want to set her straight, don’t you?”

“I-I suppose you’re right.” He could see the logic. What he didn’t see were Aoba’s veiled intentions.

“Aren’t you too compromising, Naegi?” Haneyama saw through the manipulation.

“Shut up, Ayaka.” Aoba said, turning her attention back to the brunet. “Now that you won’t run away- _decided to stay,_ tell us how you and Sayaka became friends.”

Everyone always asks that question of the unlikely pair. "Sayaka approached me, asking to be friends.” At that, both girls gave him odd looks.

“Hmmm, this wouldn’t have happened a few months back, would it?” Aoba said

“I guess so, yeah.”

He caught her lips twitching upward. “Oh, I get it. I get it~” She singsonged.

“Get what?” Haneyama asked.

“Remember how moody Sayaka was when manager-san got on her case?”

“How could I forget? She acted like such a bitch.”

The conversation passed back and forth, Makoto feeling totally ignored.

“Yeah yeah, but didn’t Shiina-chan say it was suspicious how quickly Sayaka got over it?”

“If I paid attention to all her gossip, I’d go insane.”

“Ugh, just listen for once. Sayaka’s been pretty chill since then, no tension or anything.”

“So?”

Aoba slowed, gazing at Makoto “Could it be…that Naegi-kun here is the reason?” She finished with a scandalous note.

His eyes shot up. “I…wouldn’t know much about her professional life.”

“Her private life then~”

“Don’t know. I just lend a hand if I’m needed.” Often resulting in him getting pulled into whatever crazy scheme Sayaka thought up to entertain herself on a particular day.

“Aww. You _don’t_ like each other?”

Makoto blushed scarlet.

Thankfully, Haneyama interrupted whatever incoherent muttering that would have seeped out. “Did you hit your head, Satomi? None of us are dating, and if Sayaka was stupid enough to, she could _so_ get a better guy. No offense.”

How does one _not_ take offense?

“Here we go with another episode of Miss. Unrealistic Standards. I bet Makoto has great qualities. Right?” He didn’t know why Aoba stared at him expectantly.

“None, sorry.”

“Oh come on, everybody has _one_ thing they’re good at. Even if it’s weird and not very useful.”

Makoto shuffled his feet, looking at the ground. There was _one_ skill he may or may not have. “I’m not sure how true this is, but my sister says I’m a good singer.”

Aoba and Haneyama traded glances between each other, then back to Makoto.

“Didn’t see that coming. Think you can sing better than we can?” The way Aoba inspected him changed, a piercing stare replaced her bemusement.

“This is a complete waste of time.” Haneyama refuted the possibility.

“Let’s see here…” Aoba wasn’t listening, reaching into her bag, procuring a portable speaker set. “I’ve got instrumentals. Go ahead, Naegi.”

“I-I’m probably not very good. My sister’s the only one whose heard me, and she’s not unbiased or anything.”

“Just do what she says or we’re never getting past this topic.” Haneyama growled, as disinterested as Makoto was anxious.

 “Just promise not to laugh.” Makoto conditioned.

 “We’re idols. You think we’re gonna laugh at a solo performance when we know how hard it is to express ourselves on stage?”

True. Makoto took faith in the girls’ pride for their work.

His mouth parted and…

3 minutes later, Sayaka came down the staircase, to the living room, wearing pajamas and a surgical mask that covered half her face. The section he did see was paler than usual.

“Hi there.” Makoto waved, lamely, praying he didn’t make too much of a racket.

Sayaka blinked.

Aoba and Haneyama examined him with a predator’s discerning gaze.

The silence frayed his nerves.

“Wow.” Aoba clapped. “Wasn’t expecting that. How was he, Sayaka?”

“Eh?” Sayaka shifted her eyes between her friends, suddenly standing at center of attention. “You were fantastic. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that?”

“I'm pretty sure Komaru did.”

“You said she was bragging. *cough*.” Sayaka hacked coughs, bending forward slightly.

Makoto stepped forward, his hand gently patting girl’s back until she stopped.  “You should go lie down.”

“I’ll be fine.” She replied.

“Call me unconvinced.” Makoto said, skeptically. Trying to change Sayaka's mind was often like moving boulders. “I’ll carry you back to your room if I have to.”

“I’d like to see those skinny arms try.” She smirked behind the mask.

A clap from Aoba brought the duo out of their tiny world.

“I agree, Sayaka needs her rest. So…let’s go, Ayaka!"

“Like you’ve got to tell me, I can read the mood.”

The girls stood up, packing their bags.

“You’re leaving?” Sayaka asked.

Aoba giggled. “We were worried when you caught the flu, but it looks like Naegi-kun can pick up our slack. Take good care of her.” The girl patted him on the shoulder.

“Wait…you want _me_ to stay?” How and when did the roles switch this much?!

“Don’t mind what Ayaka said earlier. Sayaka was always alone before meeting us, so she needs a guy who can spoil her rotten.” Aoba put a hand to her mouth.

“That’s going too far!” Sayaka argued, a pink tinge replacing her pale features.

“Try not to go overboard, not unless you want to get left behind. Well, that might be even better for me.” Haneyama flicked a strand of her hair, following Aoba to the exit.

“Sorry, Ayaka, but that’s not happening. I’ll be up and ready to practice by tomorrow. Maybe even later today.” Sayaka said, dramatically.  

The two heard the front door close.

Makoto placed his palm on Sayaka’s forehead, checking for whether her newfound energy was false bravado. “Yeah, that’s not happening. You’re going to rest.” He said, with uncharacteristic authority. Any reservations he held faded at the thought of her doing something as stupid as practicing in this condition.

It annoyed him to think that Sayaka would actually go through with her boasts.

“And If I don’t want to? This is _my_ house.”

“I’ll make that tea you like, _if_ you cooperate with me.” Makoto bargained.

That worked

This junkie.

* * *

 

“I hate this.” Sayaka whined as he drew the bed covers over her.

“Me?” He sat by her side.

“You _being here_. Even though I wasn’t supposed to show you my embarrassing sides again.”

“I don’t mind, sticking by you in troublesome times is one of the few things I can do. I _want_ you to depend on me.” Makoto confessed. “That said…It’s awkward to say now but I’ll have to leave eventually…before your dad gets here.”

Sayaka chortled. “Oh right, you haven’t met him…but I’ve told him about you. I think you’d hit it off.” She had no idea how much of a daddy’s girl she sounded sometimes. 

“Doubt it.” Especially in this position. Huh, asides from Komaru, this was the first time he’d stepped into a girl’s room.  It was more spacious than the rooms in his house, and with more clutter to match.

His eyes wandered across the room, stopping at the drawer aside the bed. He spotted a small portrait of 3. A young, black-haired woman holding a toddler in her arms. An even more youthful man with striking blue hair and a charming smile draped his hand over her shoulder.

Makoto glanced at Sayaka, eyes closed and sleeping soundly. Makoto lifted himself off the edges of the bed, not getting far before a hand latched onto his wrist.

“Stay.” He turned to see Sayaka awake, barely. “My dad won’t be back till for a little while.” 

 

Makoto sighed. He couldn't refuse the desperate plea.  “Alright… I’ll spoil you as much as you want.” He smiled.

One victorious grin later. “Then…could you sing for me?” She asked, the weakness was cute…but the request…

Makoto’s pupils enlarged. “What? I… _really_?”

She nodded meekly.

The idea of one of the nation’s top idols asking him to sing sounded preposterous. But he’d dealt with a lot of dreamlike scenarios lately.

So he sang. His confidence rising at how pleased the bluenette looked. Within 12 minutes, she was asleep. He was sure of it this time when he gently left the bed. He took the tray and tea with him, outside of the room.

He maintained quiet steps down the stairs and to the kitchen. He boiled water in the kettle for make new tea. Then he searched the cupboards for ingredients to make chicken soup. He discovered most, the chicken being most important ingredient. Other findings were celery, carrots and all that good stuff he usually never touched. Unfortunately, the seasoning was too high from to reach while tip-toeing. Makoto motioned to a wooden chair to use as leverage, pulling it over.

He climbed the chair and grazed the ingredients.

He heard an audible crack, one of the chair’s legs gave out. “Whoa!” The abrupt incline had him falling backwards.

His landing wasn’t as painful as expected…because someone caught his back before he fell.

Makoto lifted his head to see a familiar face. Makoto had never met him before, but he spotted similar features in Sayaka’s frame. The tired black rings under his eyes weren’t in the picture but the  slicked back blue head of hair was a dead giveaway.

This was Sayaka’s…dad.

Makoto wished he’d just fallen right then. With a yelp, Makoto leapt from the man’s arm, spinning around to face him.

This was…an abysmal, cataclysmic scenario. Makoto couldn’t articulate an excuse with his thoughts circulating at speeds not formerly possible.

 “Breath.” The black suited man said.

Makoto took deep breaths and spoke “I’m not suspicious at all!” What was intended to be expressed as a calm defense, ended up an outburst.

“First…the ones who say they’re not suspicious are the most suspicious of all.” His voice was silvery, pleasant...and controlled. None of which evoked anger or shock. “Second, I can see that. I’ve never heard of a thief making chicken soup in the middle of a heist. You must be one of Sayaka’s friends. A boy…so I assume that makes you Naegi?”

Bewildered at the set of accurate deductions, Makoto could only nod, dumbly. “Y-Yeah…Psychic or just good intuition?” In this insane situation, he ground himself by latching onto a familiar line.

_“What?”_

Didn’t work. “It was a joke…hahaha.” Dammit Sayaka.

“Most people joke about me being a detective or a spy, but the boring truth is that I’m connecting the dots. Where is Sayaka?” Her father asked.

“I put her to bed- She’s sleeping now.” He corrected himself, detaching his involvement.

“Is that so? Good work.” Five words, a non-committal grunt and Maizono…turned his back and walked towards the living room.

Stunned, Makoto couldn’t  keep up with the shift in tone. From the opening into the living room, he saw Sayaka’s father sit on the sofa and turn on the television.

He expected a lecture of his life, having his parents called and…a ton of problems or misunderstandings that would eventually get cleared up. That’s the usual formula where his horrid luck was concerned _. ‘Maizono-san…aren’t you a little too understanding?!’_

The immense pressure in the atmosphere had all been fabricated by his active imagination, from the looks of things. Now the brunet didn’t know what to do. Did Maizono want him to leave? Or was he given permission to stay?

This is too weird.

Instead reflecting on his silliness, Makoto felt Maizono’s reaction was too…serene. If Komaru had been in Sayaka’s position and she’d been alone with an unfamiliar boy, mom and dad would _flip._ Even if the hypothetical person was just a friend and nothing… _unsavory_ happened, there were lines in the household that weren’t easily crossed. However, Maizono-san didn’t even acknowledge them.

…

Makoto brought his hands to both sides of his face, smacking his cheeks in preparation for the stupid stunt he was about to pull. He took shaky steps to the living room, peeking out from the safety of the wall.

Maizono sat cross-legged, his chin resting on his knuckles, visibly disinterested in the viewing. Despite his handsome appearance, Makoto thought he looked like a puppet going through the motions.

“What is it?” Sayaka’s father said, side glancing at him.

Makoto bashfully moved into his vision. “A-Aren’t you going to see Sayaka?”

“I believe you said she was resting. Having to put up with me would only delay her recuperation.” His response, while logical, unsettled the younger boy.

“Your **daughter** _wants_ _you_ to take care of her.”

At the implicit provocation, Maizono lazily faced Makoto with cold, lifeless eyes. “Did Sayaka tell you that?”

“No, but-”

Maizono-san raised a hand to the side, inviting Makoto to sit across him. “Manners.” Succinctly put. Makoto abided by the direction and took his seat. Once there, the blue-haired man continued.

“This is good timing. As I’m sure you know, I’m a busy man with very little to waste beating around the bush. Excuse me if I’ve skipped several steps to reach the point where you’re comfortable enough to have this conversation, but what do you think of Sayaka?” The man set his own pace without regard for Makoto’s readiness.

“We’re…just friends.” He sputtered. Maizono wasn’t wrong about skipping ahead!

“I was speaking of your assessment of Sayaka’s _character_. Her relationships have nothing to do with me.”

…

 “I don’t mean any offense, but who Sayaka associates with, is directly her father’s concern.” Makoto argued, knowing he hadn’t addressed the initial question. But he couldn’t back down on such flagrant disregard for the idol.

“I have never treated that girl as a child and I’ve never been much of a father. Sayaka is mature enough to make her own decisions and accept the consequences.” Was his unfeeling answer, clashing with Sayaka’s overwhelmingly positive opinion of her father.

“You can’t mean that…” Makoto recalled this was the man who took his daughter’s dream of becoming an idol at face value without question. “With all due respect, Sayaka _is_ – and I know this is strange to hear from me – a child. You can’t throw her out in the wild and expect her to be fine. Has she told you about what she’s gone through being an idol?”

 “If Sayaka wants to quit, she can do so at any time. But if she wishes to continue despite the hardships, that’s her choice.” He said, tiredly.

Makoto’s eyes widened sharply, waiting for a redaction.

None came. Only a chuckle from the man.

“You must think I’m quite the neglectful parent - You don’t need to say anything, it’s written all over your face. She was right to call you an open book, you can’t even _mask_ your anger. Men like you will have it hard.” Maizono smiled for the first time. It was a far cry from Sayaka’s inspirational one. No, even the smile in Sayaka’s photograph.

It pissed Makoto off. It wasn’t his style to get angry and like many other things, _he wasn’t good at it._ In fact, he might’ve snapped at any moment.

“Nevertheless, I won’t disagree with that assessment, but this is just how I do things. When Sayaka’s agency ‘advised’ us to move, I begged my boss to give me a promotion, a raise and a branch transfer to another law firm, the following day. He couldn’t refuse even one of those things of course. I’d buttered him up for years, working harder than anyone else in the event something like this would come up.” The man said, delightedly.

“You think that’s _enough?!”_

Maizono didn’t respond to his outrage, maintaining that unassailable calm. “It isn’t, but I learned a long time ago that this is the best I can do. As young as you are, nobody is too young to understand that life isn’t fair. You can be a good person, try your hardest, do everything right and still, the happiness you worked to achieve, can vanish in the blink of an eye – like Sayaka’s mother did.” A dense silence hung in the air as Maizono paused.

“That’s not to say living is meaningless or nonsense like that, what kind of adult would I be, feeding you lies? Life is about memories…those who experience the most and leave the biggest impression in the time they have, _are the winners_

Sayaka is making her dream a reality and leaving her mark on the world. A greater accomplishment then any I have at more than twice her age. There are some older than me that _still_ haven’t decided what to do with themselves. So why would I hold her back from living to the fullest?”

That’s wrong. That’s definitely wrong. He was her father, _not a resource_. “Anybody with money could do that. It’s not care and it’s not enough for her. The reason she became an idol in the first place was because she didn’t get enough _attention from her father.”_

Maizono didn’t so much as blink from his frustrations. “As I said, I was never much of one.”

“That’s because you’re not trying!” Makoto’s voice rose. “Take a day of work if you have to, go to her events, nurse her to health when she’s sick, for crying out loud!”

“…‘I’m not trying?’ Poignant. Most single parents wouldn’t be able to control themselves in the face of that rejection of their labours…but blissful ignorance is part of being young. I can see you’ve been raised well, by good parents.”

“The best.” Makoto affirmed.

“I’m jealous. I wish I could have given Sayaka that kind of life.” He wore an ephemeral smile that didn’t last long enough for Makoto to discern its authenticity. “But that’s not reality. You’re right, all I’ve done is support Sayaka. That’s all I have time for. My answer won’t change.”

Makoto frowned in disappointment. He could tell that Maizono loved his daughter, but it was applied all wrong. He has to know that. Sayaka had to as well. This father-daughter dynamic wasn’t normal. “I don’t know how you could think that…but I do know this. I even if neither of you will admit it, _you’re hurting her_. What’ll you do if a time comes when that pain can’t be healed by slapping on a band-aid.”

“If she ends up like her mother, you mean?” Profound fatigue and sadness dominated the man’s features.

That hadn’t been Makoto’s intention, but he didn’t correct the man. That Maizono jumped to that far off conclusion not only reminded Makoto of his daughter, but it also said more about her father than any sophistry spoken this night.

“In that case, I’ll accept that as a consequence of my failure as a father.” He said simply.

“It’ll be more than just you suffering. I’d share that pain too.” Makoto glared. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure that never happens. Even if you sit here and  do nothing, I’ll still protect Sayaka my own way.”

The two locked stares for a time. Maizono broke first, closing his eyes. “Sayaka said you were quite the talker. She was right. You seem to have had some maturity yourself. It’ll do you well in the future…and If you think you can give Sayaka the life I couldn’t, then I’d gladly hand her over to you when the time comes.” The blunette opened his eyes, a grave expression on his face. “But I said the same thing once. Talk is cheap.” The man stood from his seat. He pulled out his wallet and set a wad of money on the table. He cast Makoto one last expressionless look. “However, even cheap talk can be refreshing once in a while. If nothing else, it’s good that she found a friend in you.”

On that one aspect, they agreed.

“It’s late, call for a taxi when you’ve had your fill. Or If you want to stay the night then feel free to do so.” Without another word, Maizono, pocketed his hands in his pants and left Makoto to his own devices.

The spikey-haired boy clasped his hands together, unmoving. “Sorry.” He apologized to his friend.

 “I don’t think I can get along with him.”

* * *

  

“Achoo!” Makoto sneezed, feeling like a sack of hot garbage laying in bed.

“Should have listened when I told you to leave.” His caretaker, Sayaka watched over him at home. A few days after he visited her home, he’d come down with a high fever. Feeling responsible for his illness, Sayaka took it upon herself to care for him while his parents were away.

“What’s with my broken karma scale?” He questioned, weakly.

“No good deed goes unpunished.” Sayaka recited while wiping the sweat off his face with a towel. Then squeezed the liquid out into a bowl on the floor.

“Sorry to make you do this. You…probably have better things to with your time.”

“I have important things, sure, but whether they’re _more_ important is debatable. I’m right where I need to be.” She assured him.

Makoto shielded his flushed face with his arm and muttered. “Thanks.”

“Embarrassed? I know the feeling.” It really was karma…talk about role reversal. “Imagine my surprise on my first day back to school, only to hear you’d gotten sick in the mean time. Aiko says she’s sorry, by the way.”

Makoto tried to laugh at the image of Miura apologizing but ended up coughing. Sayaka gently rubbed his chest to make the process a little less painful.

When he stopped, she brought a cup of warm water to his lips, prompting him to drink. She then wiped the spills away with cloth.

“Taking care of someone else for once, isn’t so bad either. It’s like I’ve gotten the baby brother I always wanted.”

“Gee thanks. I’ll remember that the next time you’re sick, _big sis_. ” He joked, trying to wipe the sting of being placed in the brother-zone.

“You can dream. I’ve got a strong immune system. Last time was…unusually bad, I’m normally able to take care of myself.” Sayaka informed him.

Makoto knitted his brows, his lips forming a frown. 'Taking care of herself' could mean so much now. “Your dad never helped?”

“He got me medicine or left me with a caretaker whenever we could afford it-…where are you going with this?” Sayaka’s knowing gaze told him her intuition had kicked in…or he was just that poor at hiding his displeasure.

“He’s a jerk.”

Sayaka blinked rapidly. “Who? My dad?”

 “I don’t think he’s a very good father.” He sulked.

Makoto couldn’t decide whether to smile or pout at the sound of Sayaka’s sweet laughter. An impure grin on her face. “I-I’ve never seen you so petty. Is this about the fight you had?”

He’d have shot off the bed if he wasn’t dead tired. “H-He told you?”

“Yeah, the morning after. I noticed he was smiling more than usual, and he gave me the deets before he left.” Were they actually closer than he thought? That doesn't make sense.

“I’m sorry for acting so rudely. I lost my head.” Makoto groaned.

“Are you kidding? I’m mad I wasn’t there to see it.” Sayaka rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you had an argument with my dad. Makoto, _he’s an attorney_. It’s _his job_ to win them.”

Maizono did mention something like that, but anything that didn’t directly involve Sayaka was far away from his mind. His thoughts recently tended to revolve around her...

 “Dad told he likes you.” The idol said, suddenly.

“The feeling’s not mutual. Be serious. The things he said…they weren’t right. I don’t think he’d listen to a stranger like me, but he’ll listen to you. Tell him he’s wrong-” It felt like dirt built up in his lungs, evoking a severe coughing fit.

Sayaka waited for him to quiet down. “You shouldn’t get worked up over this.”

“But-“ He was silenced when her warm hands softly touched his cheeks.

“It’d be cruel to ask him to do any more.” Sayaka said, softly. Her caress somehow preventing him from mounting a proper counterargument.

_“Why?”_

“That’s between us, I don’t want to share but…since it’s you, I’ll give you a hint.”

_‘Does…that mean I’m special to her?’_

“My parents met as children…in an orphanage. Mom didn’t have any siblings and she never knew her parents…but my dad lost his little sister and parents in a house fire.”

Makoto winced. _‘That’s terrible.’_

“Mom and dad had each other and grew up together. They had me a few months after marriage, and she died shortly after.” Sayaka didn’t utter another word.

He took the hint. “I still don’t like it but…I won’t bring it up again.” What was an outsider butting into their family matters for anyway. 

The bluenette smiled. “Thank you…but before we close this awkward conversation, there’s just one thing I wanted you to help me clear up. My dad said something super weird.”   

“Like what?”

“Something about giving you another shot at him, _after you've joined the family_. What the heck did he mean?” Sayaka asked with a rare puzzled look.

Makoto’s complexion turned paler than thought possible. “I-I-I-I wouldn’t know anything about that!” He lied.

 “Really?” Sayaka looked unconvinced.

“Yup! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m very tired right now.” He flipped onto his side, hiding away from the idol. Makoto knew his feelings would be completely exposed if she saw his complexion right now.

Sayaka’s eyebrows contracted. “Now why am I suspicious?”

“Must be nothin’. More importantly.” A forced change of topic, but hey, he’s dodging life and death here. “Haneyama and Aoba-san told me something interesting too. What’s this about a country accent?”

He heard a razor-sharp gasp and looked back to see Sayaka’s face a furious pink, her mouth hanging open. It was the same expression as when he’d barged in her home unannounced.

“Satomiiiii!” Sayaka groaned, hiding her face in her palms.

Makoto giggled at the reaction. He’d thought Sayaka’s previous outburst had been because of sickness but, maybe not.

…Maybe this is what everyone’s favorite idol was really like when flustered.

* * *

 

Several months passed since the school festival. Makoto traversed in and out of Sayaka’s circle of friends freely. It’d become routine to see blue mingling with spiky brown. Even if the occasional stranger spotted them alone, it was a non-issue.

Makoto Naegi and Sayaka Maizono were close friends. Nothing less, and certainly nothing more.

It would have been easy if that were the case.

“How’d you get me to do this again?” Makoto turned his body to the side, desperately trying to match Sayaka’s movements. She requested help with dance practice at her home over the weekend and he innocently agreed, unable to hide his own interest in a front row view to seeing the idol dance again. Especially as _unlike_ the time at the arcade, Sayaka had worn one of her formal idol dresses.

What Makoto didn’t expect was for Sayaka to prefer the hands-on treatment and rope him into being her dance partner. Well, it wasn’t that surprising. Makoto’s afternoons were a lot busier than they once were. Hectic, whenever Sayaka brought one of her ideas of ‘fun’.

…He can’t say he disliked shifting into high gear.

“You’re helping me out for the graduation dance.” She explained. Graduation was only a few weeks off. Makoto hadn’t planned on going.

“Can’t you ask one of your other friends?”

“I won’t be dancing with _them,_ will I?” Sayaka rolled her eyes.

Makoto straightened up as her intentions sunk in. “You want to go with _me_?”

“It’s no prom, but I don’t want to miss the ceremony.” She smirked, slyly. “I get your anxiety though. Even I was blown away by your mad dance skillz.”

“So…we’re training me here?” Makoto wanted nothing more to avert his eyes or think about pretty much anything but the closeness and heat.

Sayaka nodded happily. “Think of it as mutual benefit. You learn to dance, and I get a cute dance partner that doesn’t suck at it.” Her left hand had fingers locked with his, while the right held onto his torso as she spun them around. “Do you not want to?”

 “I do…it’s just…” He stammered. “Never mind.”

For all his talk of friendship, but halfway through the school year, he’d developed a genuine crush on the girl.  He didn’t know when his feelings sprouted in earnest…maybe it was because of how surreal it felt to be around Sayaka day in and out. Or because he was a hormonal 15-year-old who couldn’t share close proximity with his gorgeous friend without his mind going down the gutter.

Or that.

“Pay attention, Makoto.” Sayaka snapped him back into reality. “Geez, where’s your head at?”

You don’t want to know…

 Sayaka sighed. “To be fair…we have been at this for 2 hours. Let’s take a break after one more session, I’ve got tea if you’d like.”

“You’re way too fond of that stuff.” Makoto commented.

Sayaka flashed her pearly whites. “That bitter aftertaste calms my nerves, I can’t get enough. Plus it’s super cheap; only costs a few quarters out of my wallet.”

“Lucky for you. Because in my experience, you’re…not really all that good at making it yourself.”                 It was only in strange moments like these that he could one up the girl.

“Bzzzt.” She stuck her tongue out. “Slide your right foot out.” Makoto heeded the instruction, letting Sayaka take the lead and pulling him forward into a new stage.

Just like he had been earlier this year and shortly after it. The duo moved around the empty floor, Makoto’s steps gradually but surely becoming more coordinated and controlled.  As with their movements, as Makoto’s skill progressed, time followed.

On the evening of their graduation ceremony, he’d been able to keep up with his celebrity, his high-strung nerves and focused mindset working overdrive to not embarrass the both of them. On the other hand, Sayaka just made it look natural. The difference of years of practice that he couldn’t easily breach. Not that he minded or complained. Just being this close was more than he could ask for. This moment was one he’d treasure forever.

... 

“Yo.” A familiar voice called, entering the washroom.

Makoto looked up from the sink, having been splashing his face with cold water in an attempt to cool down. “Takashi-kun.” He replied, finding a towel to rub his face with.

Over the last few months, the taller boy had dropped a few of his slovenly habits. “Looking about as happy as you ought to be. What happened to all that bad luck?” He rubbed his blonde hair.

Makoto chuckled. “It’s a lot more trouble than you think. Felt like I was being watched by hawks.”

“Mostly true.” The other boy yawned, looking exhausted.

“You okay?” He asked teasingly

 “…I suppose, it was good for some last memories. I bet you made some.”

Makoto answered with a wry smile.

“Thought so. Man. these two years sure went by quickly. Remember how we met?”

Makoto recounted that fortunate day.

“It was almost lunchtime, I think." Takashi snickered. "You looked _terrible_.”

The unlucky boy nodded. “You looked like a yankee.” 

It was a funny memory looking back. An unlucky start to an unlikely friendship. "I've been wanting to ask. You're friends with Miura and Aizawa, right?"

"If by friends, you mean a target for verbal abuse, then yes~. We grew apart near the end of grade school, but I think we're back on track after the festival."

"Yeah, about that. I think you could have made up with them a lot earlier. Why'd you stick around me all the time?"

"Ah, I see. You're wondering why I, with my good looks and stellar personality, hang around you of all people." The athlete said with a cocky grin, twirling his finger at Makoto.

"A little." Disregarding half of that sentence.

"There's no big secret. You're a chill guy, easy to get along with." Takashi revealed. Right before Makoto offered his small thanks, Takashi gave him a reason not to. "You absorbed all my ragging like nobody else. For a while, I thought you were totally _spineless_ , like jelly."

"That's what you thought of me. You suck." Makoto sighed.

"Don't get mad at me, just saying you give off that impression. It's not true, you're just an all-around good guy. It takes a while to figure out that you're actually stubborn as an ox, just about the strangest things. Like your feud with me and my beloved Nico(tine). Damn homewrecker."

Makoto wrinkled his nose with distaste. He'd had no regrets hounding the blonde until he finally quit. "Smoking's bad for you."

"Worse for athletes. Why do you think I did it?" 

Neither spoke for a few moments.

"Right now, you're thinking 'Way to kill the mood.'" Takashi mocked.

"You said it, not me."

“Fair enough! It's old news anyway, as I’m thinking of becoming a pro soccer player after all.” He suddenly confessed.

“You’ve decided to go through with it? That’s great.”

“The only reason I was ever against the idea was…my mom.”

Makoto recalled his only meeting with the woman. “She’s never said it out loud, but she hates soccer, something to do with how she met my dad. But I love it, it’s how he and I bond. I bet she hates the thought of me growing up like him. I felt guilty.” Takashi scratched his hair, his voice faint and tired

Ah, that made sense, theoretically. He couldn’t understand what that was like, he’d come from a perfectly ordinary family.

“It’s tough bringing myself to play my best when I think about her. And if everyone did see how good I was, they’d push me to play harder. Just like my dad does." Makoto had a rough time deciding if Takashi was overconfident or not. "Between my folks, and everyone else I’d rather not leave anyone with expectations of me. I’d disappoint one way or the other.” 

 “But-“ Makoto was cut off, by a hand and a slick grin.

“You don’t need to say anything, this is only passed-tense anyway. I couldn’t hide after everyone saw me at the sport’s festival, so I might as well go all the way with it.”  He wore a sad smile that Makoto didn’t think fit him.

The brunet wondered if what Takashi said about his mother was true. If she didn’t like him playing soccer…why come to the festival specifically to see that?

Unfortunately, that was a question he couldn’t voice to the blonde…and it wasn’t his place to. “I’m not sure if I can help you there…but you’ve got my emotional support. Just don’t forget me when you become famous.”

He snorted, then laughed. “Only if you don’t.” A carefree disposition suited him best.

Did you decide on a high school?” Makoto brought up a terse subject.

“Shuren. You?”

“Dusk High.”

“Far!” Takashi sighed. “Too bad, I don’t want to part like this.” He’ll miss me that much? “What’ll I do for my blog now? I’m gonna lose tons of followers without Makoto material.”

“Drop dead.” Makoto muttered under his breath.

He held his hands up defensively. “I kid, I kid. Really though, it was never a dull moment with you around.”

Why are the only compliments he gets, backhanded ones? “It’s not like this is goodbye. We’re still young, we can meet as many times as we want to in the future.”

Takashi smiled. “In that case, it'll only be goodbye for a little while.”

The two boys shook hands. "Well, I'll bow out early." Takashi waved.

...

Makoto sees static as soon as the blonde exits. He washed his eyes, trying to wipe away the erratic fuzz.

…Okay, everything’s fine.

 “Maybe I _should_  get his contact at least.” Makoto lamented his poor luck and the lack of a cellphone, but that didn’t mean he had to let that come in the way of a 2-year long friendship. Makoto exited the washroom, looking both ways. “Where’d he run off to?” Makoto searched the venue, asking others if they’d seen anyone matching Takashi’s description. To no avail.

“Takashi-kun!” Makoto yelled out. Before he knew it, the other attendants in the main hall had been cut down to size, containing only a handful of people. “Where is everyone?”

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Sayaka tapped his shoulder from behind. “Huh? Are you crying?”

Makoto wiped his eyes. “No, that’s just water from earlier.” He lied. “I was looking for Takashi-kun.”

“Kawashima-kun? He left ahead of us already.”  Sayaka smiled mischievously. “That’s what you’re getting emotional for? You’re so sweet, Makoto.”

“Is it that late already?” He looked around, finding no clocks in the room. There wasn’t much point checking _his_ watch either.

“Can we go to your place? I have something important I want to tell you.” Sayaka announced abruptly.

“We can’t talk here?” Makoto asked.

“I’d like some privacy…if that’s alright with you.”

Of course it was.

* * *

 

Makoto offered Sayaka freshly made tea. She visited often enough that his parents stocked her favorite brand.

“I’m annoyed I can’t make it this good.” Sayaka switched between gratitude and irritation. “Your parents shouldn’t be home…but where’s Komaru-chan?”

“At her friends’ place.” Makoto answered.

“That leaves just the two of us. Perfect.”

Makoto’s heart skipped a beat. It was so normal to have the blue-haired girl around that he failed to acknowledge that glaring detail. They were alone, sitting on his bed that seemed to have magically shrunk a few sizes, from his perception. “P-Perfect how?”

Sayaka looked him straight in the eye. “I’ll come right out and say it; I’m leaving town in 3 months.”

“H-Huh?” Makoto went slackjawed, searching Sayaka’s expression for signs of an elaborate joke. He found none. “Y-You’re going away? _What part of that is perfect_?” His voice was shaky.

“Remember how I said my agency got me to live in that mansion? They’re making us move again, to a metropolitan area. It’s to further my career, since I’ve skyrocketed in popularity and…got a huge gig.” She flung a strand of hair, speaking professionally. “Financially, my dad said it wasn’t a problem. He already quit his job and found another in the area.”

Not like Makoto could expect sense from him.

“Ah…that’s…great.” He could only feel half as enthusiastic as normal. The fan inside him was happy for her success. The other half felt like he'd been slapped in the face. “I guess I’ll really need to buy a new phone after all.” He scratched his cheek.

“What are you doing?” Sayaka poked his forehead. “This is the part where you beg me to stay and we live happily ever after, like the movies!”

Nothing about that statement clicked. “Happily ever after?”

“You don’t get it huh?” Sayaka thinned her lips.

“Can’t say I do…” He said.

“Maybe you will after this.” Sayaka drew close. Too close. Soft, moist and warm – He felt those pleasurable sensations when she pressed her lips onto his. The contact was brief. ending before Makoto could react or think to reciprocate, Sayaka backed away and punctuated the affectionate act with “I love you.”

A bewitching silence filled the room, while the mystified Makoto processed the confession

 “S-S-S-Slow down, you’re moving too fast!” Makoto grabbed the girl’s shoulders, his voice shaky, having barely regained coherence. “L-L-Love? _Me?_ Isn’t that too much?” His teeth chattered. 

“Eh? Is that true?” Sayaka cocked her head, using an all too familiar tone.

“Don’t copy Takashi-kun at a time like this!”

She snickered at his reaction. “You forgave me even at my worst. You kept your promise and stuck by me through thick and thin. Now…I can’t imagine a life without you in it. If that’s not love, I don't know what is.” Sayaka blushed, clutching her chest.

Makoto was speechless at the heartfelt declaration.

 “I love you and…I think you like me too.” She said.

This time he nodded.

Sayaka smiled brightly. “I knew it. May I ask since when?”

 _‘May I?’_ She’s serious.

“There wasn’t really a specific time. I’ve always kind of had a crush, but it got really intense…a little after we became friends.” Makoto spoke as if he were in a daze. This couldn’t be happening. He confessed. _She confessed first._

“I think mine started after we talked in the café. I wasn’t sure then, but I knew after I stayed over that night.”

“A-All the way back then?!” His eyes widened.

“Yeah…which is why I’m super mad you didn’t realize it. Even though I was being so obvious.” Sayaka pouted.

“Sorry.” He whispered, reflecting on their past interactions to see the signs he missed. “…What happens now?”

“We still have a few months left before I leave. That’s not nearly enough time, so I’ll savor every second.” Sayaka said, inching closer to him.

“But…you’re not supposed to date-mmm” He was cut off by another, deeper kiss. Even with his head swimming, Makoto was prepared this time, pulling Sayaka into an embrace and returning the kiss. Within minutes, sweet, gentle touches turned desperate and aggressive. Makoto lost himself in romance, a pang of disappointment when their lips parted…along with an eagerness to start again.

“Do I have to choose?” Between him and her career.

“Not if you don’t want to.” His voice barely a whisper. No matter how much he wanted to hold her, …he couldn’t hold her _back_ from the dream she worked so hard for.

 “You’re so nice, Makoto. So honest. So understanding. So **_soft_**.” That alluring tone nearly drove him over the edge again. Sayaka must have noticed as she placed a finger to his lips. “I’ll chase my dream…but I’m not going to give you up either.”

“Y-You mean that?” He hoped. He admired the idol on stage, along with her talent and dedication to her craft. But he liked the girl in front of him just much.

“If it means I can still keep you in my life. I’ll cheat and do both.” Like she'd read his mind and granted his wish. “No, the real reason is that I’m afraid. I know deep down that stardom will fade eventually but…I’m scared by then, you’ll find another girl after I’m gone.”

“T-That’s probably unlikely.”

His retort was met with skepticism.

“You’re kidding, right? A guy like you’ll get snatched up before I know it.”

Makoto sat cross-legged on the bed, looking down. “U-Um…I meant the part about me liking someone else. I don’t see that happening…definitely not in the near future.” He stared at Sayaka shyly.

Sayaka studied his face. “What do you see in me, Makoto?”  

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” He squeaked.

Sayaka pursed her lips. “I’m a little angry that you might be serious. It’d be easier for me to list what I _don’t_ love about you.”

She said it again…

“That adorable face you make when embarrassed ranks very near the top.” She added, only adding to his blush. “If you want me to stop, answer the question.”

He drew in a long breath. “You’re beautiful and talented, while I’ve always been the guy in the background. Not that I think there’s anything _wrong_ with that…but when I’m with you, it’s like I’m getting pulled into a new, exciting world.” He glowed.

“You complain whenever I drag you along though.” Sayaka giggled. Great, the mood was steadily returning to normal.

 “I’m afraid of trying new things, but I don’t regret it afterwards. Like that one time with your friends. Still can’t believe they got me to sing with them.”

 “Yeah…um, your voice ranks at number 2 of the reasons I’m into you. If I knew you sang that well, I would’ve kept that secret all to myself.” Sayaka mumbled, averting her eyes. “But at least you’re all mine for now.”

Makoto nodded meekly. They kissed again. This time, he initiated.

“…when’s the part I wake up?” 

 “You dummy.”

“Makoto! We’re home! How was the ceremony?”

The two separated, leaving a sizable gap between them.

…

“I’m guessing I can’t tell my parents.” Makoto said, timidly.

 “Isn’t more romantic if only we know?” Sayaka teased for a moment, then continued. “Or…is it a problem?”

“No. This is enough.” It _was_ enough. Chances are that he wouldn’t be the guy who could brag to the world about his girlfriend, but he didn’t mind that. Just being together – if only in secret – was so much more than he could have asked for. “I shouldn’t get greedy, not after you’ve already gone so far for me.” His smile gently conveyed his honest feelings more than words could.

Sayaka nibbled on her bottom lip, fingernails clawing on the frills of her skirt.

“Oh Makoto…”

* * *

 

On the surface, their relationship remained unchanged, what they scheduled as dates came across as platonic to their friends and families. Though Sayaka was careful to disguise herself in public.

Careful. They always had to be. It was an unspoken agreement that close contact was forbidden. Unless they were alone, then they could be as reckless and exploratory as they wanted. Sayaka often several steps ahead of the boy on that front.

It was New Years eve near a local shrine. Not local to his house, but where Sayaka formerly lived, before moving into the mansion she would soon vacate. It was far, even by train, but Makoto didn’t refuse Sayaka’s wishes. “Wake up, Makoto. We’re here.” Her voice skipped. He groggily woke, his head leaving her shoulder.

As the train stopped, they departed. Sayaka never failed to impress with how well she pulled off the cool androgynous ‘Yuki’ look. Her curves mostly hidden by a jacket and jeans.

Makoto on the other hand…was dressed in a light, green kimono his dad had bought him for the occasion.

Sayaka’s father had booked a place for them to stay, “Should we go sight-seeing first, maybe your old home?”

Sayaka shook her head. “A new family is living there…and it’s a few kilometers to reach the shrine, we’ll be late if we don’t go straight to the inn.”

She led Makoto outside the train station, where his senses overloaded at the scenery change. The sound of the ocean waves’ caressing the land drew his attention to the sandy shore. His lungs inhaled the clean country air as his breath was taken away. The assortment of orange, yellow and blue resulting from the sun setting over the sea, was burned into his memory.

“It’s so pretty.” He gazed in awe.

Sayaka laughed by his side and extended her palm.

“Is that okay?” He hesitated.

 “We won’t get caught. More importantly, I have a feeling you’ll get lost otherwise.”

“I’m not a kid.” Makoto frowned, still taking Sayaka’s hand.

“Hard to tell with all that childlike glee you had going on.” She joked. But Makoto really did feel like one, even if he didn’t want to admit that.

His eyes, full of wonder, darted in multiple directions along their journey. The rustic buildings had charm. There wasn’t any traffic, be it on the road or the streets. Makoto understood why Sayaka was so relaxed.

“Most of the townspeople should be heading uphill for the festival.” She explained. That and there were fewer cameras and technology here.

That aside, his impressions were already sky high for this pleasant country town – The quaint beginning for the explosive star orbiting around him.

* * *

 

Sayaka led the way around the festival, springs in her step as she hopped to and from stalls with delight. Makoto followed with equal enthusiasm – Her’s stemming from nostalgia and his from the novelty of it all. They competed in whatever games allowed it (he lost most) and retreated whenever they drew attention to themselves. This was Sayaka’s hometown, it wouldn’t be shocking if somebody recognized her.

They stopped by the shrine, clapping their hands in prayer and wishing upon the New year.

…

“What’d you wish for, Makoto?” asked Sayaka, the pair settling around a tiny stone hut away from the crowds. The idol sat on the rocky steps, while Makoto’s side leaned on a nearby tree as he indulged in a pink popsicle. A bag rested on the floor next to him.

The boy gazed at the celebratory fireworks in the distance, thinking of how to articulate his wish. He released the icicle from his mouth with a pop. “For the day when you can be free to do whatever you like.”

“Aha, so you want me out of a job~”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Makoto chuckled. “What about you?”

“That you won’t forget me when I’m gone.”

A thick, oppressive silence falls. In a few days, Sayaka would vanish from his life. Going off to who knows where. Makoto suppresses his feelings and drives the bad thoughts to the back of his mind.  “That’s a wasted wish. I couldn’t forget an bully like you even if I tried.” He joked to lighten mood.

“Fair enough.” Sayaka laughed. Likely humoring him than finding the joke funny. “Thanks for coming out with me, Makoto. I usually wouldn’t have the chance.”

Makoto disagreed. “I’m the grateful one, I’d never _think_ to come by a place like this if you didn’t bring me along.”

Sayaka trained her eyes on him, dusting the back of her jeans as she stood from the stairs. She quietly made her way over, hands wrapping around his waist and hugging him from behind.

Makoto was wary, predicting the advent of his girlfriend’s more adventurous kinks.

“Komaru’s been asking why I’m wearing so many sweaters lately.”

 “You’re not a very good liar. What’d you tell her?” Her voice full of whimsy. Yup, it was coming.

“That it’s normal for me to wear multiple layers, even in spring. I think she bought my excuse. But…er…maybe you should…lay off the biting a little.” His warning fell on deaf ears. Makoto gasped at the jolt of Sayaka nibbling at the back of his neck, to her delight.

“And miss those adorable moans? Not on your life.”

He sighed. “I hope you’re not planning on _eating_ _me_.”

“Maybe if you’d stop looking and tasting so good, I’d get better at controlling myself.” Was her excuse. When’d he become dessert? “But if you mind so much, I’ll help myself to a substitute.” Sayaka leaned over his shoulder. Before he could gleam Sayaka’s intentions, her lips circled around the popsicle as she brought her head down.

Makoto’s breath hitched at the sensual act, the swirl of his eyes representing his muddled thoughts. The disorientation only clearing after an audible _chomp_.

Sayaka brought her head back up, gulping and licking her lips. Makoto arduously took his eyes away from the sight and attended to his now bare stick. “That was mine!”

“We’ll buy another later, you big baby. Look, you won a prize.” She said, and he did. A ‘winner’ label etched onto the wood.

“Lucky me.” Only when Sayaka was around, it seemed.

 “I think I’m the lucky one. I even get to see you in a cute outfit.” She pulled at the kimono.

Makoto reddened at the compliment. “T-Thanks. I’m sure you’d look a lot better in a yukata.”

“Probably. I wish I could have shown one off to you.”

 “I’m not _too_ bummed. You’re beautiful in anything.” He scratched his cheek.

“ _Anything_ huh?” She drew out the syllables. “Was that true back when you thought I was a boy?”

After a time, Makoto nodded.

…

Sayaka entered a giggling fit at the awkward confession. “Way to throw _that_ back in my face. Oh well, I suppose it’s fine if I’m not the only one feeling embarrassed.”

She spun him around, this time hugging from the front and burying her face in his neck. “I’m going to miss this.”

“I hear long distance relationships are rough.” His voice cracked slightly. Given who he was with, Makoto wouldn’t be surprised if he got dumped along the way. The most popular girl in the country could get anyone she wanted.

 “But we can make it work.” Her words alleviated his worries. “As long as I can hear your voice and get your messages, I-…” She paused. “What about you?”

“I’ll be cheering you on like always.” He yelped when she bit down on his collarbone. “Wrong answer?”

Sayaka shook her head.

Makoto caressed her silky hair, finding himself intoxicated by her ocean-scented perfume. “It’s not so bad. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

 “I really am one lucky girl.”

“No, I think by all accounts, I’m the lucky one. For once.”

“I wonder if we’ll ever agree on this. You could stand to be cynical and assertive, Makoto.” She said, vaguely.

Assertive huh… “There _is_ something I want from you.” Makoto pressed his hands on the idol’s shoulders.

His soulful gaze evoked genuine surprise from the girl. “R-Really? N-Name it. I’ll do anything.” Makoto failed to catch the desperate undertones.

“Take care of yourself.”

 A simple direction caused raw confusion to spread across Sayaka’s features.

 “You can always call, text or write whenever you want, but I might not be physically there to stop you from…flying the handle. That’s why I want you to promise me you’ll stand your ground and not do anything that’ll hurt yourself.” He clarified.

“…Ah, that’s what you meant. I should have figured.” Sayaka hung her head low.

“Is that no good?” Makoto asked, concerned.

A grim smile crept on Sayaka’s face, as she shook her head before saying. “I'll do my best.”

With his heart set at ease, Makoto crouched, motioning for the bag filled with sparklers. He looked up to Sayaka with a wide smile “Time to light these babies up!”

The bluenette found herself carried away by his boyish antics. She crouched with him, grabbing her share of the mini-fireworks.

“Hey…why don’t we make another wish?” He proposed.

“Do we get to have two?” Sayaka playfully chided.

“I don’t see why not.” It was new years, they were allowed to be greedy.

They hung the sticks downwards, multi-colored sparks flying from the tip. It was a marvelous sight right up until the sparklers burned out.

“What’d you wish for?” Makoto inquired.

Sayaka blinked at the question. “Ah…that…um…hmm. I-" Makoto watched the socialite comically flounder about with her speech.

“…Is it that hard?” He spoke with intrigue. It must have been _some_ _wish_ for the idol to hide her face behind her hand.

Sayaka coughed, trying to regain some eloquence. “Not hard…more like _impossible_.”

Now he was really curious, but he didn’t get the chance to probe further. “One day, I’ll definitely have the courage to say it.” Sayaka’s resolute expression kept his inquisitions at bay.

“And I’ll be here to listen.” Makoto relented, accepting that Sayaka still had secrets to be kept hidden even from himself.

“It’s a promise.” Sayaka enthusiastically made a vow to the future. “Okay, your turn to spill, lover boy. What’d you wish for?” She passed the baton over to him.

“Well now…I wonder if it’s fair for me to say.”

Sayaka stiffened at his “O-Oh right. You can keep it a secret too if you want-” She stopped as soft laughter escaped Makoto’s mouth. “You were only kidding.” Her flat tone reflected the mortification at the (overly) honest boy pulling one over on her.

Makoto nods, a wide grin on his face “Why are you so tense? This is _me_ we’re talking about.” Honest and open to a fault, which made it all the more surreal that the idol entrusted him with her heart.  That was at least one secret he would never allow exposed, for her sake.

At the end of the day, Sayaka’s happiness mattered more than anything else.

Being the sap that he is…

“I wished for your wish to come true.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This'll be Naegi's birthday fic (assuming I'm not late to the party). Makoto's a simple guy, with a good nature that attracts people, so I tried to show that through the surrounding characters that came from less-than-ordinary backgrounds.
> 
> As for Sayaka, Makoto's confrontation with her father sheds some light on her exaggerated behavior. Due to her upbringing and the idol life, she's never known restraint. Probably why she gets along with a stable and normal guy like Makoto. On the flip side, her high-strung personality is a quality Makoto secretly likes.


End file.
